The ATKT.in Cypher is an exclusive community of some of our favourite artists and talent across categories of artforms. 

For August’s ‘Open’ theme, here’s the submission of Malvika Sharma from KC College Mumbai, a member from the ATKT.in (Poetry) Cypher. 

 

Somebody from the 90’s taught me
That every Drama
Was divided into act and scenes
Every single cliché
even the ones on screens.
So since we all are
Just wooden puppets
On nothing but a big white stage
Let me introduce to clear up the vague
Our hero,
Was just another girl
Little sensitive, very to be true
But it all was taken care of as she grew
Everyone is an artist you see
Holding brushes.
They painted her layer over layer
She faked more
as climbed up the stair
But one fine day, her eyes
God her eyes!
Met eyes of another chic
And this exactly where we start the conflict
The basics of clichés you see
Attraction, infatuation, smiles and films
Whenever she was with her
Time stood still
But it was just a friendship
A friendship rooted too deep
Drawing assumption already?
Boy ain’t that a leap?
So as the story proceeded
Clichés grew more
Whispers were triggered
And the turned to roar
They heard voice of my…her…my heart
At least assumed that they did
I didn’t care,
But until…
She wanted an out.
I begged her. I loved her.
I knew she did too.
But she had to be disgusted
That’s what she choose.
That left me with a crack.
So I cracked. And I cracked
I don’t remember when I went home
But it was late for a fact.
My mother asked me,
If I had something going on
But you see she’s from 90’s
She could never get along
Boyfriend troubles to her it seemed
And there was my crime
All signed and sealed.
Pause.
Take a look.
Shingled hair, wardrobe with jeans
For once, fuck the stereotype
Let me come clean.
My touch is pure as a morning dew,
If I can be your lover,
I’ll be a friend, a mother, even a sister to be true.
I won’t grope you,
Consent matters
Be your vagina, your waist, your breast or your lark
E=MC2
See, I am smart.
I am not diseased.
There is nothing that I lack
Not liberal, Not a leftist, Not a westerner
I am a human for a fact.
Play.
So as we move to the last
where love pushes a little harder
and every piece of me begins falling apart.
So I fall and I fall
And then something obvious happens
I got bored.
A little amusement did no harm
So reach to my pocket
A knife, I slice my arm.
So I stab and stab and stab and stab
Every slice for a crack.
Waiting.
For the plague to flow off.
And get me right on the track.
Pretentious I sound. Don’t I?
Just another millennial
Finding it cool to defy.
Rocking the Cradle
Right for 377
Fuck the system
Hold on. Settle.
You see, 90’s raised me
I and my sexuality
There are no revolts in these sleeves
I am just scared
To tell my children
I fell in love
and 90’s never bared.
Scene.